


A Voice in the Dark

by Verabird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Castration, Double Anal Penetration, Drugged Sex, Gisquet tries to stop Chabouillet from doing rash things, Large Insertion, M/M, Obedience, Other, Power Play, Tentacles, and he doesn't particularly want to, but he doesn't try very hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verabird/pseuds/Verabird
Summary: Chabouillet wants complete obedience. He wants Javert's mind, body, and soul, and he will take what he wants without remorse.Such procedures should not be done without even the most rudimentary of anaesthetic and under the influence of these drugs Javert begins to visualise horrors in the dark.





	A Voice in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Esteliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/gifts).



“You’re not a surgeon André.”

Chabouillet took another sip of his brandy and tilted the glass to the side, viewing Gisquet through the slashed crystal light. “I don’t need to be for this.”

“But consider the lasting damage.”

“I will consider it.”

Gisquet waited a few moments before letting out a frustrated sigh. He clinked his glass back down on the silver drinks tray and picked up the decanter to pour himself another measure. “You’re being foolish and impulsive, besides, he’ll never agree to it.”

“Of course he will. Regardless, I don’t plan on asking him.”

Gisquet shook his head. “Foolish. Unbelievably foolish.”

“You’ve never been to war, I have, I’m more than capable of handling a little blood.”

“A little blood? Do you hear yourself speak?”

Chabouillet calmly took another swig of his drink and settled further into the lavishly upholstered chair, crossing one leg carelessly over the other.

“You think a professional physician would agree to perform such an operation?”

“For the right price yes.”

Chabouillet smiled. “I wish it to be personal. I would trust no one but myself for this.”

* * *

 

“Drink, drink more.” Chabouillet thrust the glass of wine beneath Javert’s lips and pressed a hand to the back of his neck. Javert opened his mouth instinctively, but much of the red liquid spilled down his chin. Chabouillet laughed with merriment and leaned in to kiss the wine from Javert’s lips. “Come now, more.”

Javert made an attempt to shift backwards. “Monsieur, I am afraid I can’t quite keep up with you both.” He glanced over to Gisquet who was leaning against the mantle, glass in hand. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright, but he still had a wary air. He was watching Chabouillet closely.

“Nonsense.” Chabouillet drank from the other side of the glass, then pressed it back to Javert’s lips. “Finish it for me. That’s an order.”

Javert’s head was already spinning, the room had changed axes several times, and Gisquet’s concerned face was little more than a blur now. Chabouillet was pushing him back, strong hands to his chest, until he felt something touch the back of his knees. They buckled beneath him until he was falling back onto the chaise lounge behind him. With a swiftness that Javert struggled to notice Chabouillet had straddled his thighs and settled down on top of him, effectively pinning him.

“Henri, would you bring me that bottle on my desk please?”

“I want no part in this.”

“Then after you’ve brought it to me you can leave.”

Chabouillet held out his hand and waited without looking until he felt the heaviness of the bottle touch his palm. He unscrewed it carefully and held it away from his face, wincing as he caught a whiff of the fumes.

“This is strong,” He remarked. “Where did you pick this up?”

“It has been in my collection a while, this was not its intended purpose.”

Chabouillet ignored him and took Javert’s face in one hand, the pad of his thumb brushing his cheek gently. “Do one last thing for me will you Javert? Drink this.”

He pressed the small bottle to Javert’s lips and tilted until some of the strong liquid dripped onto his tongue. Javert coughed instinctively, but Chabouillet pressed his hand to his mouth and waited until he’d swallowed.

“How long does it take?”

“The change is gradual.”

“So it won’t black him out?”

Gisquet moved closer to the chaise lounge and pressed a hand to Chabouillet’s shoulder. He looked down at Javert who was slipping into a peaceful state of delirium, his lips red with wine, his eyelashes fluttering, his brow furrowed.

“It’s a strong opiate, it is not meant for anything other than temporary pleasure. You are playing with a man’s life.”

“What is life without a little danger?”

“Indeed, but danger for whom?”

“For him of course, and would you tell my dear Inspector to his face that he should avoid danger?”

“He is dear to me too. In a certain way.”

Chabouillet had set aside both the bottle and wine glass and was now cupping Javert’s face with his palm. He was stroking his cheek softly with his thumb and smiling at the peaceful expression on his face. “I am doing it because I care. It will prove to him that I have never and will never see him as anything other than mine.”

Gisquet gritted his teeth and swung back the glass in his hand, finishing off the wine and licking the fine taste from his lips. “There really is no stopping you once you’ve set your mind to an idea.”

“No.”

“A stupid idea at that.”

“Are you going to help?”

Gisquet watched as Chabouillet knelt back on his haunches and set to preparing the instruments wrapped neatly in a leather pouch. A sliver of metal flashed in the firelight, a bottle of iodine, swabs. Gisquet grimaced, his face blanching.

“No thank you.”

“You don’t have to watch, but please stay, just in case I need your assistance.”

“You’re going to kill this man.”

“Don’t be so dramatic Henri, I am going to do nothing of the sort. I am ensuring the longevity of our relationship if anything.”

“A whim and a prayer.”

“Have any ideas ever been formed on less?” Chabouillet’s hands did not shake at all as he took up one of the lethal looking instruments and examined it in the light. “Once you have seen the effectiveness I’m sure you will be begging me to perform the same on all your little pets.”

* * *

 

It was a strange sensation. Like falling, but not moving at the same time, but most certainly not planted on the ground. Javert’s head pulsated with a dull aching pain, but at the same time his body felt light and free as if he could move in any direction, up and down included. His eyes were closed, he was sure, but then a light came to him and he was uncertain. He heard Chabouillet’s voice though, reassuring as it always was, resonating in his mind. Calming and intense, he had the desperate and sudden desire to obey whatever it said. He always had that feeling, Chabouillet could command him to fly and Javert would sprout wings on the spot, for he could never disobey his patron.

There was little he would not do. Break the law? Perhaps he would draw the line at that, but Chabouillet, upstanding man that he was, would never request such a corrupt thing of him. No, he would murder for this man, but if Chabouillet commanded it to be so then the killing would be just.

“Follow me,” Chabouillet’s voice echoed round his mind, round the dark chamber he appeared to be in. Was it a room at all? It was nothing except blackness, no walls, no corners, no edges. Javert opened his mouth to call out for Chabouillet, to ask him where he was so that he may follow.

“Do as I say.”

“I am trying,” Javert replied desperately, but as he opened his mouth it felt as if a stream of water flooded it. He choked, tried to breathe, but more water filled his lungs and throat and his whole chest was burning. His body jerked instinctively, but there was nothing to hold onto.

“Calm yourself.” That voice, so soft, so strong. He would obey it until the end of time. He would let his lungs burn out and he would not struggle. Javert would happily drown. “Easy now, I have barely started.”

“What..?” Javert began to say, but the small light around him was fading and he was confused again.

“This will likely hurt, but you must be calm. Stay completely still.”

“I will,” Javert said firmly.

“I’m sure you will try.”

It happened too fast to comprehend exactly what happened, but suddenly Javert felt a tight grip around both his ankles and then he was being yanked down into a bottomless pit. He opened his mouth to scream, but again that burning sensation filled him.

“Shhhh.” Chabouillet’s voice was so soothing despite Javert’s torment. He reached out helplessly as if to grab a wall, but there was nothing. “Don’t fight it.”

They didn’t feel like hands, they were smoother and tighter, and Javert didn’t dare look down. More of them clasped about his shins and then his knees, up to his thighs, pulling him closer to a ground that didn’t seem to exist.

“Please,” Javert called out. “Save me from this.”

“It will all be over soon.”

Javert felt a sudden warmth brush against his cheek, then run through his hair, but he couldn’t see the hand that touched him, only blackness. Suddenly his feet hit the floor and he let out a grunt as he crumpled into a heap. It wasn’t long before the appendages wrapped around his legs were pulling again, dragging him as he kicked and struggled. He risked a glance down and wished he hadn’t. It was a creature that could not be described, best left on the pages of a novel about adventure and the sea. It was horrifying, a mass of shining dark tentacles.

“Monsieur Chabouillet help me!”

“Everything’s fine, I’m right here.”

Again Javert felt that warmth touch his cheek, but it was not enough to quell his fear. Next he felt a sharp pain close to his thigh, and agonising burning, and he thrashed some more. The tentacles shot out, one after the other, a never ending stream, wrapping around his body, swarming him. They tore beneath his clothes, burning his skin as they slipped across it. They slipped around his wrists and forced them to cling to each other behind his back. They pulled at his ankles and spread them apart, his thighs were held in place, and then he felt a slippery tendril press up against his entrance.

It was freezing cold and burning at the same time. So soft and wet, but it felt as if knives were slicing him open up and down his thighs. It breached him forcefully and Javert let out a yelp of pain. He felt burning in the pit of his stomach and he let out a series of restrained moans.

“Help me Monsieur!”

“Javert! I’m right here, you’re doing well, I’m so proud of you.”

“Call it off.”

The tentacle inside him kept pushing, deeper and deeper, further than Chabouillet had ever entered him. It seemed to expand inside him, stretching him open until he felt a second tentacle fight for position. It had intelligence, a life of its own, it had discovered his prostate and was now massaging it with an aching accuracy.

“Call what off?"

“This...this thing!”

There was unnerving silence filled only with a sickening squelching. Warmth in his hair again, this time stroking longer.

“Tell me what you see.”

“André, they’re hallucinogenic drugs, they are not a substitute for medical procedures.”

“Quiet Henri. Javert, tell me, what are you seeing?”

Javert winced as a third tentacle began to push against his entrance, desperate to force its way in, but Javert was certain he could not take it. Another tentacle slipped up his thigh to wrap tightly round his balls, holding them in a crushing grip. He let out a desperate cry.

“Blackness,” He hissed out. “Nothing but the dark, and this creature.”

“Describe it for me. Focus.”

Javert opened his mouth to speak, but a tentacle was sliding up his body and forcing its way into his mouth. Javert gagged as it kept moving, slipping down his throat and causing him to choke.

“Easy now, try to stay still.”

The warmth brushed his chest this time, but Javert couldn’t pay attention as the rest of his body burned. Another tentacle forced its way into his mouth, it pressed into the inside of his cheeks and pushed down on his tongue. He choked again.

“Shhh, it will all be over soon, don’t try to speak if you can’t.”

Javert felt the tentacle wrapped round his balls grow tighter, constricting him more and more until the pain was immense, and yet he could not scream as his mouth was full. Desperate, he thrashed and struggled, but the tentacles held him tighter. Chabouillet’s voice was growing distant, disappearing into the void of blackness and Javert felt his eyes watering with tears as he thought his patron lost to him forever.

He felt warmth on his brow and then true blackness. No sight, not even the faintest hint of light, no senses either, it was as if he had stopped feeling completely, nothing but numbness, no movement except for the frantic blinking of his eyes. But this too became too much effort, and eventually he let them slip closed into an anxious sleep.

* * *

 

“You’ll forgive me Javert won’t you?”

“For what?” Javert looked up almost innocently and Chabouillet felt his heart swell. He was lying in Chabouillet’s own bed, covered in silk sheets, the bandages freshly changed.

“I wondered if you might be angry.”

“Why should I be?”

Chabouillet pulled back the sheets and slipped into bed with him. He reached out to grasp Javert’s chin and tilted his face toward him so he could kiss him fully on the lips. “Another man might call it invasive.”

“I am not another man.”

Chabouillet smiled. “Indeed you are not, and all the more grateful I am for it.”

He brushed Javert’s cheek with his palm and Javert felt a familiar comforting warmth glance across his skin. “I believe it will make me a better man. I will be closer to your heel, and besides I believe my duties will be easier.”

“Less distraction?”

“Naturally.”

Chabouillet kissed him again. “I am still curious, what did you see?”

“I do not wish to concern you Monsieur.”

“Monsieur Gisquet has told me stories of his own adventures with the stuff, but Henri’s imagination can be rather predictable. Yours however interests me greatly.”

“I saw-...it was indescribable.”

“Try.”

“A creature, a terrifying beast of a thing, wet and dark and unrelenting.”

“Sounds familiar.” Chabouillet laughed, but then he saw the serious expression on Javert’s face and he softened slightly. “No matter, you came out of that darkness.”

“Indeed Monsieur, I followed your voice.”

“A risky move.”

“Yet I am all the better for it. A wholler man than I was before.” He took Chabouillet’s hand and guided it between his legs, tentatively touching the fresh dressing with his fingertips. “I will always be grateful for what you have made me. I trust you implicitly, blindly, even in the darkness.”


End file.
